


April Fool's, Asshole!

by 00lovelylilac00



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: April Fools' Day, Fake/Pretend Relationship, I'll update the tags later, M/M, More characters to come, Pining, idk how to tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-04-23 05:34:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14325708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/00lovelylilac00/pseuds/00lovelylilac00
Summary: Laf is known for their horrible April Fool's Day pranks.  This year, Alex is determined to get back at them.  But to do so, he might need the help of a certain Thomas Jefferson.I'm sorry I suck at summaries this is my first fic





	1. Alex is gonna kill Thomas but not before they make out

“He’s gonna drive me insane, Jemmy, I swear to God.” Thomas is scowling heartily as he storms down the hallway to his dorm. “It’s giving me a fucking existential crisis. I mean, how did we both end up in the same school? Same major? Same debate class?? Lord knows we can’t walk into a room without hacking each other to bits, much less participate in a civilized debate.”  
  
James coughs quietly, doing his best to keep up with Thomas’s lengthy stride. “Don’t you think you’re being a bit hypocritical? I mean, no offense, but you two are kind of similar.”  
  
Thomas freezes mid-step, shooting James a look of absolute horror. “What the fuck? I- wh-y-” Thomas stutters, trying to collect his thoughts. “I mean, I guess he’s kind of smart…” James purses his lips disapprovingly. “...really smart,” Thomas hisses through gritted teeth. “But he’s so goddamn stubborn! You’d think someone as smart as him would be able to recognize that their opinions are bullshit. It’s so frustrating, Jemmy,” Thomas says, his tone turning whiny.  
  
James raises an eyebrow: _like I said, hypocritical_.  
  
Thomas flips him off before continuing his sulky march through the building.

\------------

When he reaches his room, Thomas pauses outside to steel himself before swinging the door open.  
  
There sits Hamilton himself, smugly typing away on his laptop. The asshole is probably working on some essay due weeks from now. Thomas wouldn’t be surprised if he’s somehow working on an essay that hasn’t even been assigned yet.  
  
With a long-suffering sigh, Thomas breezes past Alex’s bed and tosses his bag onto his own.  
  
When Thomas found out that his roommate was the obnoxious jerk from freshman orientation, he was about ready to dropout of college and hope for the best. Fast forward to junior year, though, and they’ve figured it out. Kind of.  
  
They still argue just about every other day, but when they aren’t arguing, they have mastered the art of ignoring each other. Just the way Thomas likes it.  
  
After debate this afternoon, James and Thomas went out to their favorite diner to blow off some steam. Which Thomas had a lot of. He wasn’t even paired up with Hamilton, but the asshole found some way to start some stupid argument as usual. So Thomas stayed out with James as long as he could, hoping Hamilton would be asleep by midnight.  
  
He should have known better.  
  
It seems that Hamilton is in the ignoring mood right now, so at least something is working out in Thomas’s favor.  
  
15 minutes later, Thomas is in bed and trying to fall asleep.  
  
Key word: “trying”.  
  
_Huff_. Ten seconds later. _Sigh_.  
  
Thomas glares over at Hamilton through slitted eyes. He’s leaning back on his bed with his arm draped dramatically over his face.  
  
“What?” Thomas asks with remarkable restraint, he thinks, considering the situation.  
  
Hamilton turns to him and wrinkles his nose disdainfully. “Mind your own business, Jefferson.”  
  
Thomas closes his eyes for all of a second before he hears another sigh. “Tell me or shut up!” he snarls, sitting up in a flash.  
  
Hamilton’s eyes widen marginally. “Okay, fine, asshole.” Thomas leans over to turn on the lamp in between them. Hamilton pauses, looking almost embarrassed. “I’m... trying to think of an April Fool’s prank for Laf. They’ve gotten me bad these past few years and I really wanna get them back for once. But I can’t think of anything, and it’s in two days. Ughhhh…”  
  
Thomas lets out a surprised laugh, adjusting himself to a more comfortable sitting position. “You too?” At Hamilton’s confused look, Thomas drawls, “Lafayette’s so cocky now because they get me every single April Fool’s. You know one year, they invited me over to his apartment and hid alarm clocks all over that were set, like, five minutes apart? But they slowly got closer together until there was a new alarm clock going off almost every fucking second.” He shudders with the memory. “They must have had at least thirty of them! Where did they even get that many alarm clocks?”  
  
Thomas looks over to see Hamilton’s eyes alight with mirth. “Fuck off, Hamilton”, he scoffs.  
  
“No, no”, Hamilton hastily reassures him, “I’m just laughing because it feels good to hear about these pranks from someone else for once. Pfft, once Laf hid, like, a bunch of toy snakes everywhere. I mean, everywhere. They were on the outside path, right by my seat in the cafeteria, in all of my usual seats for classes. Not that, um, I was scared, or anything. Ha.”  
  
“You think that’s bad?” Thomas looks at him incredulously. “My story beats yours for sure. The year after the alarm clock year, they taped huge bug-shaped pieces of paper under all their lamp shades so it looked like there were bugs in the lights. Oh my God, that was horrible.”  
  
“Was the gweat Thomas Jeffewson scawed?” Hamilton teases.  
  
Thomas levels a glare at him. “Um, no. But if I was, can you blame me? Anyway, I bet you would have pissed your pants.”  
  
Hamilton rolls his eyes. “Like you didn’t.”  
  
“I-” Thomas closes his eyes, breathing heavily. “Whatever, Hamilton.” He turned the lamp back off and rolled over.  
  
“Wait wh- what are you doing?” Hamilton asks indignantly. “You’re supposed to be helping me!”  
  
Thomas snorts, turning to face him. He can just see the outline of Hamilton’s body on top of the covers, and a faint glow from the laptop. “I never said I would help you! What am I, your therapist?”  
  
Hamilton gasps. “Don’t insult my therapist!” There’s a pause. “And I just need an idea! Something that beats everything Laf’s ever done. Come on, if you help me come up with something, I’ll let you participate. Don’t you want to get back at them?”  
  
Thomas hesitates. “It does sound...kind of appealing”, he admits.  
  
“See? I just need something crazy…” Hamilton trails off, before leaning over to turn on the lamp in between him.  
  
Thomas blinks, adjusting to the light. When he looks back, the man is staring intently at him. “Um, hello? Hamilton? Asshole?” Thomas is already freaked out, but the slow, malicious smile that starts to spread on Hamilton’s face is downright terrifying.  
  
Thomas thought he knew true fear, but he realizes that he’s never felt an inkling of it before when Hamilton speaks his death sentence.  
  
“Let’s go on a date.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really excited for this fic!! Also I'd love comments so I know that I'm not screaming this into a black hole lol... Yes I knoooow April Fool's was two weeks ago but I didn't get an account until now. I'm not sure how long this is going to be, but probably at least 4 chapters? I can't promise a posting schedule but if I'm fast then I'll do every Sunday. I'm also looking for a beta so if anyone's interested, let me know :) Thanks for reading!!


	2. In which I use every cliche known to mankind and you can suck it

Thomas slowly opens his eyes, blinking at the morning light streaming into the room. He rolls slowly over onto his left side to check the time on his phone. 9:00 A.M. Also known as: too. Fucking. Early.

Last night came back to him in a flash, and Thomas almost bolted upright in his bed. What on the ever-loving planet had possessed him to agree to Hamilton’s plan? He supposed it _would_ be a good prank, if they could pull it off. Imagine the look on Laf’s face when they realized Thomas and Hamilton had been faking! But how would they convince them in the first place? Thomas sighed. It was _definitely_ too early for this.  
  
Thomas turns back onto his side, trying to fall back asleep, when he becomes aware of something touching him. More specifically, someone touching him. Thomas groans inwardly. _No, no way, I can_ not _deal with this right now._ He slowly turns his head to the right, praying he’s wrong, but-  
  
Nope. There he is. Fucking Hamilton. In his fucking bed. _With his head tucked onto his shoulder._  
  
_What the fuck?_ thinks Thomas, and, his brain-to-mouth filter being turned off this early, he screams as much aloud. Hamilton jolts awake.  
  
“What the fuck yourself, Jefferson? Why’d you go waking me up like that?” grumbles Hamilton, rubbing his eyes indignantly, from where his head is _still_ on Thomas’s shoulder.  
  
“Why did I wake you up? Why the hell are you in my bed, Hamilton?” Thomas asks incredulously.  
  
Hamilton makes a _duh_ face. “Because if we’re going to pretend to be dating, we have to be _comfortable_ with each other.” Hamilton practically purrs the last words, stroking his hand seductively down Thomas’s chest.  
  
Thomas is practically trembling. With horror, obviously. “Umm, no. Get out of my bed.”  
  
“Make me.” Hamilton smirks, satisfied at his (juvenile) comeback.  
  
Thomas narrows his eyes, before lunging at Hamilton, because he’ll throw this prick off the bed with his own bare hands, goddammit. He tries to get a grip on Hamilton’s shoulders, but the egotistic pipsqueak is apparently not going down without a fight. It descends into absolute chaos. If this were a cartoon, there would definitely be a cloud of dust from which various grunts and curses could be heard. Hell, even Thomas can tell you what was happening, but he definitely gets kneed and elbowed multiple times and-  
  
“Did you just _bite_ me?” Thomas pauses his attack as he looks down at his stinging forearm. The imaginary cloud of dust dies down. _Is that drool?!_ He can do nothing but stare in shock at the man who’s grinning devilishly up at him. There’s no way he can let Hamilton get away with that, so he reaches his arm behind Hamilton, grabs a hold of his ponytail, and _pulls_ -  
  
Hamilton moans. Obscenely. Thomas’s eyes get even wider, if that’s possible, as he processes what just happened. _What the fuck what the fuck._  
  
He watches, as if in slow motion, as Hamilton realizes what just happened, and his face morphs into one of abject mortification. Hamilton blinks, then slides, subdued, out from underneath Thomas (and since when was Thomas _on top of Hamilton?_ ). “Um, I’m going to, uh, go take a shower.” He coughs, before slinking into the bathroom and shutting the door.  
  
Thomas sits, stunned, on the bed. He thinks he might be in shock. He can’t do anything except replay that moment over and over again. Okay. Maybe Thomas had just pulled Hamilton’s hair a little too hard, and that was a moan of pain? Yeah. That was it. Definitely.  
  
The bathroom door bangs open, and out comes the devil himself. Thomas jumps in place. He turns back to Hamilton and feels himself short-circuit.  
  
Hamilton is wearing a towel around his waist. And nothing else.  
  
Thomas feels his mouth go dry, and he tries not to stare. His heart rate picks up considerably as Hamilton reaches his drawers.  
  
“God no,” he breathes. Hamilton turns around, confused. “Go change in the bathroom, prick.” Thomas tries to morph his expression into one of disgust.  
  
Hamilton looks bewildered. “I always change in the bathroom, jerkface.” He grabs his clothes and storms back into the bathroom, the door slamming behind him.  
  
Thomas feels like screaming into a pillow. What the fuck has Hamilton done to him?  
  
________

  
“So,” chirps Hamilton, practically skipping out of the bathroom, “ready to start?”  
  
Thomas looks up groggily from where he’s been scrolling through social media on his phone. “Start what?”  
  
“Practicing!”  
  
Thomas stares at him, waiting for him to shout “just kidding”. When it never comes, Thomas starts to shake his head. “Nuh uh, no way-”  
  
Hamilton snorts. “That’s just what you said last night before I --” Hamilton waggles his eyebrows “-- convinced you to go out with me.”  
  
Thomas feels a blush coming on, but from what, he has no idea. “First, Hamilton, I didn’t agree to ‘go out with you’. We’re _fake_ dating, remember? And second,” Thomas shifts so he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, “shouldn’t we figure out the plan first? What are we even practicing for?”  
  
Hamilton rolls his eyes. “Laf’s Easter party tomorrow! I thought you were smarter than that, Jeffershit.”  
  
Thomas widens his eyes in mock surprise. “What was that? Mr. Alexander 'I’m more intelligent than you or anyone else at this goddamned school' Hamilton thinks I’m smart? Give me a second to get my camera up.”  
  
“I was using the comparative, so fuck you, Jefferson.”  
  
Thomas stands up and saunters toward the smaller man, swinging his hips exaggeratedly. “I rather thought I’d be the one doing the fucking.”  
  
He’s pretty sure he hears Hamilton start to choke on his own breath. Thomas smirks. This is fun. He keeps advancing on the man, who ends up backed against the wall, his eyes wide. Thomas braces his arms on either side of the shorter man, lowering his head so their breaths are mingling.  
  
Hamilton stares at him with wide eyes, and Thomas hears him swallow. “Um, what are you doing?”  
  
“Practicing, darling,” Thomas drawls in his ear. “I thought you wanted us to get comfortable with each other.”  
  
Hamilton narrows his eyes, and Thomas can practically see the moment that he decides that two can play at this game. Hamilton’s whole body relaxes, and he peers up at him through his lashes, his eyelids low. “What did you have in mind, Thomas?”  
  
And God, if that didn’t do _things_ to him. He can feel this going down to exactly where he doesn’t want it to go. What the fuck? _Anyone would react this way if someone reasonably attractive did something like that_ , Thomas reasons. And Hamilton certainly isn’t...unattractive. And the way he said his name… Fuck. But this isn’t real. Nothing is going to come of this. They’re just pretending. Thomas needs to get out of his head and stop thinking about this too much. He can’t help but feel that this is a contest of sorts. And that, no matter how submissive Hamilton is acting, Thomas is undoubtedly losing. He needs to regain control of the situation.  
  
So he presses even closer to the wall, their hips dangerously close to touching. He doesn’t break eye contact with Hamilton as he growls, “I was planning on hearing you beg for it.”  
  
He swears he sees Hamilton’s eyes flutter shut, and he smirks. But then Hamilton looks back at him, his chest heaving, and echoes his previous words, voice husky. “Then make me.”  
  
Damn, Hamilton’s good at this. This is not helping his...problem, but thankfully his pants are doing a good job of hiding it. His words remind Thomas of their earlier interaction, and he smirks. Before Hamilton can stop him, he snakes his hand behind Hamilton’s head and yanks his ponytail, not hard enough to hurt.  
  
Hamilton lets out a breathy “Fuck” before regaining his senses and pushing Thomas away. He practically scrambles to the other side of the room.  
  
Thomas on the other hand, is almost in tears, doubled-over and laughing. One point Thomas. “Holy fucking shit. You do have a thing for hair-pulling. Shit. I thought it was a fluke earlier.”  
  
“Stop,” Hamilton whines, drawing out the “o”. He flops dramatically onto the bed. “I’m never going to hear the end of this, am I?”  
  
Thomas perches on his own bed, still trying to catch his breath. “Never, _babe_.”  
  
This might actually work. He’ll never admit it out loud but… they do have chemistry. More than he had thought, if the state of his dick is anything to go by. And more than that, they exist on the same intellectual plane. They think similarly, even if their opinions are drastically different. They’re smart, and if their last showdown is anything to go by, they’re pretty good at...pretending to be interested. The thought puts a sour taste in his mouth, and he shoves it aside.  
  
“Okay, but seriously, we need to figure this out,” Hamilton insists, attempting to hastily change the subject. “Like, pet names? Boundaries in public?”  
  
“Wait, let’s back up. When and how did we even start dating in the first place?”  
  
“Umm...maybe two months?” Hamilton suggests. “Long enough for it not to be like, a new thing, but not so long that Laf will be pissed at me for not telling them?”  
  
“Long enough for me to have figured out your kinks, too.” Thomas winks at Hamilton.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, fuck off. Then how did we start dating?”  
  
Thomas smirks. “Let’s just say that one of our arguments got a little too...heated.”  
  
Hamilton frowns pensively. “But that just sounds like hate sex. We want to make it seem like we’re in an actual relationship, not just fuckbuddies. Half the school thinks we’re fucking anyway,” he mutters.  
  
“Wait, what?” Thomas stares at him for a second, then shakes his head. “Never mind, I don't want to know.  Anyway, I didn’t mean _that_ heated, but good to know your mind’s in the gutter. I just meant we had an intense makeout session, then confessed our undying love for each other.”  
  
Hamilton raises an eyebrow, but nods. “Fine, that works. A little dramatic though.”  
  
Thomas chuckles, before catching himself. _This is fucking bizarre._ He’s sitting in their room with Hamilton, having a civilized chat about them making out. _What_. “Okay, Hamilton, and the rest of it?”  
  
Hamilton rolls his eyes. “First off, don’t call me Hamilton, _Thomas_. It’s Alex, or Alexander.”  
  
“Okay...Alex,” Thomas repeats, the word feeling strange on his tongue. There’s a long pause. “So, pet names. Can I call you..darlin’?” Thomas lowers his voice seductively. He expects Hamilton- sorry, Alex- to laugh, flip him off, but he just sits there hesitantly.  
  
“I don’t... Please don’t call me whatever you call all your… boyfriends, or girlfriends, or whatever. I don’t wanna… It’ll just remind me that I can’t-” Alex cuts himself off, looking uncomfortable.  
  
Thomas furrows his brow. “I don’t know where you got the impression that I’m a hot ticket, but I’ve only seriously dated twice before. And I definitely don’t reuse pet names. Darling is all yours, H-Alex.” Alex looks up at him disbelievingly, but he doesn’t protest. “Although it’s nice to know how highly you think of me,” drawls Thomas, trying to lighten the mood.  
  
Alex rolls his eyes, although the corners of his lips quirk up. “Fuck off, Thomas,” and Thomas marvels at how easily Alexander seems to have switched from cursing his last name to his first. “So, boundaries?”  
  
Thomas shrugs. “I mean, I’m fine with whatever. Hand-holding, cuddling. I guess we’re gonna have to make out a ton to convince Laf, but it’s not like we were planning on fucking in public, right?”  
  
Alex’s face is growing redder by the second, a sight that Thomas does not find displeasing. “Right,” he splutters. “Do we- um, I don’t think- should we practice that?”  
  
Oh. _Oh_. That’s why Alex was acting nervous. Thomas feels his own face heating up. “I don’t think that, um, that will be necessary. Unless you doubt my top-notch makeout skills.” And it’s true; while Thomas hasn’t had much experience with serious partners, he’s had enough casual dates and one-night stands to know that he’s not too bad with… physical endeavors.  
  
But Alex snorts. He fucking _snorts_ in his face.

“If you don’t shut your face, I will go over there and shut it for you with my talented lips,” Thomas threatens. Again, he was going for a laugh, but Alexander quickly stops and looks away. Thomas sighs internally. Fuck Alex, for doing this to them. Not that there was a _them_ in the first place, but… everything feels off-kilter now.  
  
Alex coughs. “So my boundaries. Same as you, I guess. Except don’t you fucking dare pull my hair in public.”  
  
“Ahh, but I can pull it in the bedroom?”  
  
Alex purses his lips. “That’s it. I’m done. Don’t let me speak ever again. Who knew you were such a kinky little shit?”  
  
Thomas tips his head back and laughs then, a full-blown, real laugh. “Okay, okay, sorry. Anyway, I don’t think we decided on a pet name for me.”  
  
“Oh, um… I don’t know.” Alex hesitates. “I guess… I think I’ll know when the time is right.”  
  
Thomas is confused, but he nods. “Yeah. Okay.”

______

  
And if later that night, his thoughts are occupied by what would happen if he did tug Alexander’s hair again, or kissed his way up his neck, or even further up...well, nobody needs to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry y'all, this has been a long time coming. It's almost twice the length of the first chapter though so hopefully that makes up for it? It's pretty choppy but hopefully not too bad... Thanks for reading!!


	3. Thomas you're not actually dating Alex what part of this don't you understand

As Thomas parks his car in the lot by Lafayette’s, Hercules’s, and John’s apartment, he can’t help but feel a twinge of nerves. His (fake) boyfriend is sitting in the passenger seat next to him, and Thomas doesn’t know how the announcement will go over.  
  
Thomas realizes what he thinking and shakes himself internally. He should be excited; the more outrageous the reaction, the better. _I mean, it’s not like Alex is really my boyfriend and we need to get our friends’ approval_ , he thinks, but the thought isn't as unpleasing as he’d assumed it would be.  
  
“Thomas?” Thomas blinks up at Alexander, startled. The look on the man’s face makes it clear that he’d been trying to get his attention for at least a minute now. “You alright?”  
  
Thomas furrows his brow. Was that... _concern_ in the other man’s voice? Of course not. He was probably imagining it.  
  
He swallows. “Yeah.” He knows he doesn’t sound convincing, but Alex lets it go.  
  
“Alright, let’s head in.” Alex offers a small smile, and Thomas feels his breath hitch before he returns it.  
  
As Alex gets out of the car, Thomas let his head come down to rest on the steering wheel, breathing deeply. _Get it together, Thomas._  
  
He hears a sharp rapping on the window. “Hurry up, motherfuckstick,” Alexander screams through the door. Thomas allows himself a small smirk. There’s the Alexander he knows and...tolerates.  
  
As they walk towards the stairs, Thomas slips his hand into Alex’s. Because they’re fake dating, of course, and they need to make it convincing. That doesn’t stop his stomach from doing flips. Regardless of the state of his stomach, Thomas can’t help but notice that this feels undeniably right. Alexander’s hand fits snugly into his own, and there’s no awkwardness between them at the unexpected contact. He continues to wonder at this as Alex knocks on Laf’s door.  
  
The door flies open immediately and Laf rushes out, cooing over Alex like a mother hen. They’re speaking in rapid French that even Thomas can’t comprehend, but they pause abruptly mid-sentence as they take in the couple's intertwined hands. “Are you two…”  
  
“We’re dating, yes,” chirps Alex, and Thomas resists the urge to roll his eyes. _Subtle, Alex._ He plasters what he hopes is a pleasant smile on his face.  
  
Lafayette’s eyes widen in surprise for only a moment, before they smile. “Good for you two!” They promptly usher the two into the apartment before leaving them to check on the food.  
  
Thomas is pretty sure his jaw is gaping. He slowly turns to Alexander and finds a similarly bewildered expression on his face. “Did they...believe us?”  
  
Thomas shakes his head. “I can’t really tell.”  
  
“I mean, if they didn’t, they totally would have called us out on it. But if they did, they would absolutely be more excited!”  
  
Thomas side-eyes Alex, who is getting more worked up by the moment. “Look, maybe we just need to play it up more. Come on.” He reaches out and laces his fingers through Alex’s, and together they walk into the living room.  
  
It seems they arrived late, as all their friends are already there. He sees Peggy braiding John’s hair in a corner of the room, Herc keeping them company from a nearby armchair. Angelica and Burr are standing off to the side, seemingly engaging in a political conversation. Eliza and Maria are smiling at something James just said, and the overall mood is pretty relaxed.  
  
“Divide and conquer?” Alex suggests.  
  
Thomas nods, and with that they part, Alex heading towards John and Thomas towards Burr.  
  
Thomas and Aaron are actually relatively good friends, even Alex is right when he complains that Burr is spineless. He’s pretty good at encouraging people, and his presence is soothing (unlike that of someone else he knows). Angelica...well, Thomas knows to never get on her bad side.  
  
Thomas’s previous assumption was correct: Angelica and Burr were talking about feminism, more specifically a recent protest they both went to. Thomas joins their conversation for a while, absent-mindedly replying but not mentally there. But about halfway through the conversation, he finds his eyes inexplicably drifting over to the opposite corner of the room. Alex is sitting cross-legged on the ground next to John, laughing at something he said and practically leaning on him. Peggy is smiling fondly at the two, and the sight inexplicably annoys him.  
  
“Excuse me,” he mutters to Angelica and Burr, before making his way across the room.  
  
“Alex,” he says, pulling the man to his feet. Once they’re a good couple feet away from everyone, he asks, “What was that?”  
  
Alexander looks confused. “I don't know what you're talking about.”  
  
Thomas scoffs. “Yes, you do. Just now with Laurens?”  
  
“What about John?” Alex’s voice grows defensive.  
  
“Just now? You fucking flirting with John? Draping yourself all over him?”  
  
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Alexander shrieks. “John’s my friend, I don’t-”  
  
“Look, this is never going to work if you can’t keep it in your pants for a couple hours, my God.” Thomas feels a twinge of regret as the words leave his mouth, but his pride won’t let him rescind them.  
  
Alex’s face is flushed with rage. “How dare you? You know-”  
  
Alexander continues to ramble on, but Thomas stops paying attention when he sees what’s behind him. Thomas only realizes now how loud they had been. Every single person in the room has paused their conversations and are now staring at the pair of them. _Shit_. They need to make this look like some lover’s spat, and quick. “-and are you even fucking listening to me?”  
  
Thomas cuts him off by leaning down to give him a gentle peck on the lips. He tries to twist his mouth into a fond smile. “Alright, darling, you win.”  
  
Alexander is staring up at him with wide eyes, an unreadable expression on his face. Thomas feels the seconds tick by, and he silently begs Alex to do something, or else they’re both screwed. He’s just about to apologize and call off the whole charade when Alexander reaches up, pulls him down by the collar of his shirt, and smashes their lips together.  
  
Thomas makes a muffled sound of surprise before relaxing his lips against Alex’s, and _damn_ Alex is a good kisser. He leans in closer, bringing his hands to Alex’s waist and kissing back even harder. Alex’s hands are running up his arms and around his neck and his tongue is in his mouth and he’s making these quiet whines and it’s so much and not enough and Thomas wants _more more more_ -  
  
Alex pulls back first, panting heavily, and he looks so flustered that Thomas almost smiles. "Thomas," Alex whispers, his voice raw.  
  
Thomas slowly licks his lips and watches as Alex tracks the movement. He’s about to lean in again when a hand slaps him on the back.  
  
He almost jumps out of his skin when he remembers their audience. Right. How had he forgotten that this wasn’t real? Because he had indeed forgotten. He ignores the stab of disappointment in the pit of his stomach and turns to whoever the fuck interrupted them.  
  
It’s Laf. And they are beaming. “Congratulations, _mes amies_! Oh, you two will be so wonderful. I can’t wait to hear all the details!” Laf is practically screaming all this as they hug both Alex and Thomas as tightly as possible. When they disentangle themselves from Laf’s grasp, Thomas feels like his brain is going to combust. _What the fuck?_  
  
Alex voices his concerns. “Umm, Laf? We just told you we were dating. Life, 20 minutes ago.”  
  
Laf waves their hand dismissively. “Ah yes, but I thought you two were just pranking me. But just now, you two put on quite a show, eh?” They waggle their eyebrows suggestively. “And I cannot imagine the two of you being able to set aside your differences well enough to...do something like that as well as you just did, non?  If it weren't real?”  
  
Thomas mutters incomprehensibly. Laf continues to grin.  
  
“And Alex, you must be so pleased. See, I always told you that-”  
  
“I’m going to the bathroom,” Alex declared loudly, all but running away from the two.  
  
Thomas looks at Lafayette with confusion. Lafayette shakes their head. “It appears he doesn’t want me to share. Maybe another time.”  
  
Thomas is about to argue when he sees a figure marching angrily towards him from the corner of his eye.  
  
It’s James.  
  
Who he hadn’t told that he's (fake) dating Hamilton.  
  
_Shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pretty short and very rough but I wanted to feel accomplished and try to start a schedule. Hope y'all enjoy this one!


	4. Yeah so James has to deal with a lot of shit

Thomas swears he can see his life flash before his eyes as James finally reaches the side of the room where Thomas and Laf are standing. Laf mutters something about finding Herc before slipping away.  
  
_Coward_.  
  
Thomas isn’t feeling too brave himself as James stands in front of him, eyes hard. “Jemmy, I-”  
  
“Thomas, stop.” Thomas shuts his mouth immediately. “How long has this been going on?”  
  
Thomas swallows. He wants to tell James that it’s not real, spare themselves this conversation, but he knows there are too many people around who could be listening. “James-”  
  
“How. Long?” James’s tone leaves no room for argument.  
  
Thomas sighs. “Two months,” he says quietly, recalling his and Alexander’s agreement.  
  
“Two months,” James repeats calmly. “Two months. Two months of you complaining about Hamilton, when really you were dating him behind my back.”  
  
“Jemmy, he didn’t tell anyone either. It’s not like I wanted to keep it a secret from you!” Thomas pleads.  
  
“You’re my goddamn best friend, Thomas! Did you really think I wouldn’t support you?” He pauses. “And weren’t you just talking shit about him a couple days ago?”  
  
Thomas snorts. “Just because we’re dating doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten what a dick he is.”  
  
James smiles slightly. “Well, anyway, thanks.”  
  
Thomas stares at him. “For what?”  
  
One side of James’s mouth twists higher. “For winning me a bet.” The man turns and saunters off.  
  
Thomas openly gapes at him. His own best friend? Actually thought he and Alex would be a couple? Thomas had honestly expected James to call bullshit halfway through their conversation. But not only has James accepted it, he had been expecting it? Thomas is only given a few moments to ponder this before he’s approached by more hostile-looking people. _Jesus, give me a break. Everyone’s taking this way too seriously._  
  
The group appears to consist of John, Hercules, and Angelica, all three of whom bear very aggressive expressions.  
  
“Are you and Alexander dating?” Angelica demands, and Thomas does his best not to crack under the pressure.  
  
Thomas grins. “Yup. Two months now.” He swears he can see Hercules’s eye twitch. “I can tell y’all are itching to get to the shovel talk so let me do it for you. If I break Alex’s heart, you’ll bury me where they can never find me, blah blah blah. That it?”  
  
Angelica looks pissed. “Actually-”  
  
John claps her on the shoulder. “Come on, Angie, you know that’s exactly what we were gonna say. Anyway, congrats on you two getting your shit together. The sexual tension was palpable.”  
  
Thomas starts to choke on his own spit, and Hercules pats him on the back. As the group heads off, Thomas desperately hopes there're no more surprises set in store for the night. He halfheartedly thanks Eliza and Maria when they come up to congratulate him, though he's still extremely confused at… well, everything.  
  
Suddenly, he notices movement in the corner of the room. It's Laf, and they look like they're doing something with Alex’s phone.  
  
Thomas walks closer, curious. “Laf, what are you-”  
  
Laf whirls around and stares at him like a deer caught in headlights. They have what appears to be one packet each of mustard and ketchup in their hand.  
  
“Are you messing with Alex’s phone?”  
  
Laf sighs. “ _Mon ami_ , you caught me. It’s a prank. It’s not real, you see?” They demonstrate how the open packets just had plastic shaped like spilled condiments. “Don’t tell _mon petit lion, s’il te plait_?”  
  
Thomas smirks. “That’s gonna cost you."  He pauses, thinking. "I want full immunity from your April Fool’s pranks.”  
  
Laf looks even more distraught. “But I had a really good one!” When Thomas doesn’t budge, they sigh again. “Fine…”  
  
Thomas grins. “Excellent!” This was going better than expected. He's already pulled one over Laf, and now they wouldn’t be able to get him back. He watches as Laf finishes affixing the mustard and ketchup.  
  
Then Laf looks up mischievously. “Hold this.”  
  
Reflexively Thomas reaches out and grabs the phone. Before he can realize what’s happening, Laf sprints to the opposite side of the room.  
  
Thomas almost groans at the sound of incoherent talking that sounds a _lot_ like Alexander. _Thanks a lot, Laf_. He quickly puts the phone on a table near him and sits in an armchair nearby. He tries not to look, but it doesn’t take long before he hears shrieking from behind him. Yes, Alex has definitely found his phone.  
  
“What the fuck, John?” Alex storms over to Laurens, without having touched his phone. “You had my phone! What did you do to it?”  
  
John looks bewildered. “I gave it to Laf, dude.”  
  
Alex quickly whirls on Laf, who shrugs. “I gave it to Thomas.”  
  
Thomas gulps. _Oh no._ Alexander slowly turns to Thomas. “Thomas. Fucking. Jefferson. What the fuck have you done?”  
  
Thomas wants so badly to tell Alex that it’s fake (and even Thomas can appreciate the irony of the situation) so that he’ll just stop being mad at him. But he can’t break his promise to Laf. He has no idea what Laf had had in store for him. So he shakes his head ever so slightly. “Alex, why don’t you clean your phone off?”  
  
Alex looks even more furious, if that was possible, which was not hot at all, no way. “So you’re admitting you’re guilty? How could you not be if you know what happened without looking? God, you’re such a dick, you-”  
  
“Alexander.” Something must get through to him, because Alex pauses. “Go clean your phone.”  
  
Alex frowns before walking behind Thomas’s chair, presumably to take off the packets. There’s a pause, before… “LAFAYETTE!”  
  
Laf looks up innocently. “Yes, Alex?”  
  
Thomas looks behind him just in time to see Alex raise his middle finger threateningly. Then his gaze turns to Thomas. “And you, love?” Thomas felt his pulse begin to rush. Looks like Alex had found the right pet name. “Why didn’t you tell me?”  
  
Thomas rolls his eyes. “I struck a deal with the enemy, darling.”  
  
Alex’s eyes light up. He starts walking slowly yet deliberately towards Thomas’s chair. “Naughty thing…”  
  
Thomas feels his something spark low in his stomach. Alex walks around the back of the chair until he’s standing directly in front of him. “What are you going to do about it?” Thomas whispers. In the back of his mind, a voice whispers, _it’s not real, it’s not real_. Thomas shuts it down. He might as well pretend for a night.  
  
And holy shit, Alex lowers himself down until he’s straddling Thomas, never breaking eye contact. He hears a whine coming from the back of his own throat. Alex chuckles. “Now who can’t keep it in their pants? Just you wait until we get home tonight, love.” He leans in, brushing his mouth against Thomas’s ear. “You seem to need some punishment.”   
  
“Stop fucking in public, you two!” Thomas hears Angelica scream from the couch opposite them.  
  
He feels Alex stiffen in his lap, and he discreetly wraps his arms around his waist to prevent him from jumping up. It wouldn’t be convincing at all if Alex acted repulsed at the idea of fucking him. Thomas sighs internally.  
  
“Yeah, get a room, guys! Oh wait, you already have one,” John chuckles.  
  
The party continues, and...it’s nice. Alex stays curled up in his lap, although he’s actually behaving (and Thomas isn’t slightly disappointed at that, not at all). Laf gets a couple other pranks in, and Thomas is increasingly relieved that he's not the victim of any of these pranks.  
  
Apparently, though, Laf is not entertained enough, for it’s not long before they shout, “Truth or dare time!”  
  
Thomas groans. “What are we, middle-schoolers?” He, however, is outvoted, and is soon forced to join everyone else in the circle of doom on the ground. He ends up seated between Laf and Burr, and the game goes into full swing.  
  
It passes in a haze. Maria is forced to lick peanut butter off the ground, Burr has to do push-ups for a full minute, Eliza has to sit upside down (a feat which she is surprisingly good at). Laf dashes in and out of the kitchen to refill drinks, and Thomas can tell he’ll be pretty hungover in the morning.  
  
After John is forced to chug an entire carton of milk, he turns to Alex. “Truth or dare?”  
  
“Truth,” Alex replies confidently. Thomas winces. It would be too easy for someone to ask the wrong question.  
  
“Hmm…” John gazes at Alex pensively. Alex has the decency to look slightly frightened of what’s in store for him. “What do you like about Jefferson?”  
  
Alexander blinks, looking slightly surprised. _Oh no_. There’s no way Alex can tell the truth about this one. He hates everything about Thomas… Doesn't he? “Umm…” Alex starts, and Thomas can tell right there that Alex is not entirely sober. “He’s super smart, y’know? And yeah, he’s a dick sometimes, but he’s a good dick. Oh shit, that came out wrong. Though I mean, he has a good dick too.” Alex is nearly blushing at this point as he attempts to continue.  
  
Thomas almost snorts, being the only person in the room who knows that Alex, as a matter of fact, has not seen his dick. Though he supposes he should be flattered by the fact that Alex assumes it's good. He thinks?  
  
John coughs. “Yeah, okay, I was _not_ hoping for that much info. Moving on.”  
  
The game continues, but all Thomas can think of is what Alex said. Was he lying to keep up their ruse? Or did he actually believe what he said? Because as much as he keeps trying to deny it, Thomas realizes that he may not hate the man as much as he originally thought. Possibly.  
  
God, he’s definitely drunk.  
  
And God, he needs another drink.  
  
He’s snapped out of his stupor by someone calling his name. It’s Maria.  
  
“Dare,” he blurts out, not wanting to even consider having to wax poetic about Alex.  
  
Maria grins. “Seven minutes in heaven with Alex.”  
  
He definitely wants that drink now.  
  
_________  
  
Despite their attempts at protesting (while simultaneously trying to pretend they didn’t mind making out with each other for seven minutes straight), it doesn't take more than a minute before Thomas and Alex are rushed into a dimly-lit closet, gleeful grins on the faces of all those left behind.  
  
Thomas tries to make one last plea until the door is promptly slammed in his face. He swallows before turning to face Alex, who is leaning against the wall and determinedly not making eye contact with him. Thomas sighs. He sure as hell doesn’t want to be the first to say anything. Because obviously he doesn’t wish they were making out right now. Haha.  
  
He lasts a minute before he looks up at Alex. “Umm, should I…” he points at Alex’s neck, and Alex furrows his brow. “It might look weird if we come out looking, um, the same.” _Did I just fucking offer to give him a hickey?_ Thomas curses himself to eternity and hopes Alex doesn’t flip out.  
  
Alex’s eyes widen. “Oh, y-yeah, sure.”  
  
Thomas blinks, then nods. “O-okay.”  
  
He steps forward uncertainly. He really hadn’t thought this through. His arms, unsure of where to go, hang in the air. There’s an awkward moment where neither of them move.  
  
Then Alexander reaches out and pulls Thomas ever-so-gently forward by his hips. He brings his arms to rest loosely around Thomas’s neck, and Thomas slowly puts his hands on Alex’s hips. Biting his lip, Alex looks up at Thomas. “It’s okay,” he whispers. And God, Thomas could drown in those eyes.  
  
But instead, he leans down ever-so-slowly, his mouth pressing a soft kiss to Alex’s neck. He feels Alex stiffen underneath him, but at the same time a shiver runs through him, and he decides to take that as encouragement. He brushes his lips up Alex’s neck, licking a spot just behind his ear, and he swears he hears a whine come from the man below him. He continues pressing kisses to Alex’s neck, and Alexander’s skin is so warm and soft underneath him, and fuck he smells good. It’s intoxicating, and Thomas loses himself as he starts to suck lightly on Alex’s neck, loses himself in the sensation, the feeling of the man beneath him, who-  
  
Something brushes against his crotch. Thomas jolts, and when he leans back he realizes that it was Alex. Alex’s hips had just bucked against his own, and the man himself now opens his eyes to stare at Thomas, a strange combination of longing and alarm in his eyes.  
  
“Sorry,” he gasps, “I-”  
  
“Don’t worry about it,” Thomas blurts. “It’s a normal reaction.”  
  
Alex nods, and Thomas leans back in, resuming his ministrations on Alex’s neck. Alex’s hands hesitantly begin to card through his hair, and Thomas’s eyes close at the feeling. He nips lightly at Alex’s neck and Thomas can feel the moment where Alex comes apart.  
  
Alex’s hips roll against his again and Thomas reacts instinctively, pushing back, desperate for friction. Suddenly they’re grinding hastily against each other, panting heavily. Thomas can feel himself getting harder, his pants painfully tight, and he can tell Alex is having the same problem.  
  
Thomas has no idea what they’re doing, why they’re doing this, but he won’t question it. He keeps pressing Alex closer to the wall, his leg in between Alex’s, and Alex keeps doing that thing with his hips that’s driving him crazy. Thomas thinks he could die from this, from the feel of Alex’s hands in his hair, from his hips that keep coaxing these moans out of his throat that he knows the others can hear, but he just can’t bring himself to care about. His fingers dig into Alex’s back and he would laugh if he weren’t so fucking horny, laugh at them practically dry humping each other in this closet.  
  
Thomas rolls his hips slowly against Alexander’s, and the smaller man throws his head back. “Thomas,” he rasps, and Thomas swears he can feel his heart stop.  
  
“Say that again,” Thomas demands, and he rolls his hips just so.  
  
“Thomas,” Alex whines.  
  
Thomas feels himself lose even more control. “God, you sound so fucking good saying my name like that,” he whispers, leaning further down, and _fuck_ he wants to kiss him right now. His eyes flicker down to Alex’s lips, and he sees Alex’s lips part slightly. It feels slightly off-limits, like crossing a border, but _fuck it_   Thomas wants this. He cups Alex’s cheeks and lowers himself, just feeling Alex’s breath on his lips before-  
  
The door slams open. Thomas and Alex fly as far apart as they can get in the closet. “Seven minutes are up,” shrieks a voice that sounds suspiciously like Laf’s.  
  
Thomas walks out of the closet, slightly embarrassed at the whistles that greet them as they step into the living room. Thomas knows they must look quite the sight. At least Alex does. Hair tousled and cheeks flushed, with a painfully-obvious erection, plumped up lips, and a hickey that Thomas is quite familiar with. Thomas decides to stop his line of thinking right there.  
  
James smirks knowingly at them, and Laf looks quite pleased. “You too certainly seem to have...enjoyed yourselves.” Well, it certainly seems as if they’ve convinced the other members of the party that something has happened. Then again...has something happened? Thomas isn't quite sure, but he wouldn’t quite call what's happened just then nothing.  
  
Alex and Thomas return to the game, neither quite making eye contact with the other. Alex appears extremely uncomfortable the rest of the game, and Thomas can’t help but mirror the feeling.  
  
But soon, after they’ve both had more to drink, they relax. A lot.  
  
The game is starting to wind down, and it’s at that moment that Alex, clearly not sober, decides to look up and share a shit-eating grin with Thomas. “Should we tell them?”  
  
Thomas feels like he’s forgetting something, like there’s a nagging disappointment in the back of his mind, but all he can think is that pretty Alexander is smiling at him and of course they should tell Laf.  So he and Alex stand up and turn to face Laf, grinning from ear to ear. He turns and looks at Alex for his cue, and Alex counts. “One, two, three!”  
  
“April Fool’s!” They both shout in unison.  
  
Laf looks at them, unimpressed. “I’m sorry, what?”  
  
At this point, Thomas is almost falling over laughing, and Alex doesn’t look any different. Thomas chokes out, “We’re not really dating.”  
  
“We just made it up to get...back...at you!” Alex wheezes.  
  
Laf continues to look at them blankly, and Thomas clutches his stomach at their obvious confusion. Behind him, he hears a quiet “What the fuck?”  
  
Thomas continues snorting as Alex shouts, “Mic. Drop!” He then turns to Thomas. “Come on, _love_ , let’s go.”  
  
Then they’re both reaching to hold hands before Thomas’s brain can catch up. When he realizes what just happened, he feels himself grow stone-cold sober for just a second. He laughs nervously before dropping Alexander’s hand. Determinedly not looking back, he marches forward and opens the door. “After you, _darling_.”  
  
Alexander walks by and strides ahead of him down the stairs. Thomas slams the door and takes a moment to collect himself.  
  
He has a feeling this won't seem as funny once he gets to the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I know this is one day late, but it's extra long to make up for it! Thanks for reading, y'all!


End file.
